


Dan Egan Doesn't Have Friends

by tvfordessert



Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: M/M, Smut, and i wrote this awhile ago, basically 'the bachelorette and chill', because i miss old veep, fuckboys in love, post-dan getting fired in 'data', season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 23:24:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12221085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvfordessert/pseuds/tvfordessert
Summary: Even after an ungraceful departure from the White House, Dan Egan cannot escape his obnoxious former colleague's insistence on being a part of his life. The only bridge which he had actively tried to burn in Washington remained standing, leaving the ousted-staffer no choice but to finally cross it.





	Dan Egan Doesn't Have Friends

8 PM.

Dan Egan glared at the DVR's blue-lit clock from his couch. Like the majority of the furnishing in his place, the DVR was just for show to create the illusion that Dan had any modicum of domestic normalcy. If his apartment reflected the realty of its utility it would be merely a bed, bathroom, and refrigerator. Until recently, Dan Egan's primary residency was the West Wing. In a cruel twist of fate, he was now strictly a resident of his couch and had been for the past thirty hours - not that he was watching them melt away with ennui, or anything.

This is not how he wanted to go out.

Fucking Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber reveled in breaking the news of Dan's termination, news Selina was too chicken-shit to break herself. And, as if it couldn't get worse, the last image he held of the White House was Jonah Ryan's fifty-mile grin as he turned Dan into fish-food for hack journalists.

However, the scene he'd set before himself was the most pathetic part of the ordeal. Dan had fallen victim to a vicious cycle of alcohol and a twenty-four-hour news that effectively trapped him on his couch where he now nursed the last of his beer. Ideally, Dan would be back on his feet somewhere in Washington by today as he was never on to wait for permission or stumble when getting knocked down. Yet, he found himself behaving like a commoner: sprawled out horizontally in jeans and a t-shirt - essentially pajamas. This would be an inopportune moment for an out-of-body experience because a mere glimpse of himself in this condition would be enough to kill the man and whatever remained of his pride.

Steeping himself in the news-cycle only made the situation worse. Even a passing mention of his name escaping the lips of a brain-dead pundit curled his blood. Dan's slavish work ethic behind the scenes of the Washington machine deserved to be rewarded with his name crashing through headlines as the next congressional wonder-boy and not as some pathetic scapegoat for Selina "Piss Face" Meyer. His name meant nothing when dragged across the news this way; that name could belong to anyone, it _should_ have belonged to Ben or Kent. This torturous process made Dan wish he had actually been responsible for the data breech, that way hearing his name in relation to it could at least garner a sense of satisfaction.

Abruptly, as if to cut Dan lose of his thoughts, there was an invasive rapping at the door. This had no profound effect on Dan's motivation, especially when he heard the voice unsurprisingly attached to the oafish knocks.

"Nice try, Dan. I can hear the TV." The world's tallest nuisance whined from the other side.

"Yes Jonah, most people would call that a context clue. There are rules about inviting vampires inside, you know."

"If this is about the whole press thing-" Dan suspected that Jonah had just realized his intentions of sustaining this entire interaction through a door. "You know what, I'm coming in."

"Good luck, asshole. It's lo-" Jonah walked right through the end of that sentence because the door was, in fact, open. A friendly reminder to Dan that he'd already starting losing control of even the minor details in his life.

Jonah burst in with all the vigor and grace of a destructive tornado and proceeded to embark on a steam-of-consciousness rant about something meaningless. Dan wished the fact that he was missing Jonah's words stemmed from a lack of caring but, in reality, he found himself taken in by the sight of the giant's overly animated presence. Jonah Ryan's appearance was eternally unnatural due to his winning mix of freak show physical attributes and irritating personality, however Dan wasn't getting any of whiff of that as Jonah stood before him. In Dan's apartment, he just came across as a regular guy unloading his day onto whomever would listen. He was wearing one of his nicer get-ups: a simple grey suit absent of the usual sweater-vest that Dan abhorred. He could even, detaching the Jonah of it all, look...adequate.

Dan shuttered at the thought. He must already be nostalgic for the West Wing, because there was no rational explanation for a reaction of that nature to Jonad of all people. Jonah's rant began to putter-out once he realized he'd gone abnormally uninterrupted for some time. Upon investigation, he noticed Dan's eyes lingered on the six-pack he grasped in his left paw which gave the newly-unemployed man the sinking feeling that his uninvited guest wouldn't be seeing himself out in the near future.

"Oh yea...so..." Dan decided not to chime in because watching Jonah flirt with vulnerability was too rich. "Don't get me wrong, Dan. It's not like I feel bad. I mean, you're an asshole and you deserve...especially that thing with the press - that was a golden opportunity that you can't even be mad at me for!"

What the flying-fuck was Jonah rambling about? He was clearly feeling some pressure to defend his whole existence, not realizing that Dan barely gave a shit about himself at the moment, let alone his adversarial ex-coworker.

"It's just...the whole Meyer administration is bullshit! You didn't do it." Jonah sighed, finally able to construct an actual point. "And I've been there."

"Except you actually did the thing you were fired for, moron."

"No one can prove that."

"They did prove it, Jonah. And then they fired you." Dan laid the case out plainly.

"But then they came running back, because nobody says no to Jonah Ryan." As always, Jonah boosted his illogical conclusions with exceptionally misguided conviction and confidence.

"More like they _did_ say no to Jonah Ryan until I acted with the mercy of a saint and got your ungrateful ass back in the White House despite the threat you pose to yourself and society as a whole." Dan reminded.

"Still, we both had to be fired by Kent."

"Fuck Kent." Dan's vitriol for Selina's robotic adviser left him susceptible to Jonah's obvious stretch to fuse their two entirely unconnected departures from the West Wing.

"Right? Fuck that guy, I don't know how he avoided getting the boot on this one!" Jonah agreed. "Do you have something to open these?"

The former-liaison gestured to the beers in his hand with his last question and Dan rolled his eyes at the way the troll had just managed to weasel his way into Dan's evening.

"Top left drawer." Dan barked from the couch, confirming he was powerless to this situation.

"Didn't want to miss a front row seat to the shit-show." He barbed while rummaging for a bottle opener. "Brought these in case you needed to wash any pills down."

Traditionally, Dan would meet Jonah with an exponentially abrasive remark, but he simply did not have the energy.

"No need to thank me, Dan."Jonah transitioned, parking next to his former-colleague on the couch, beers in hand.

"So what are we--C-SPAN? Really Dan? Not even my grandmother watches C-SPAN, and she's dead Dan. What are you watching this for?" By the end of his last question, Jonah had launched into a pretentious chuckle. Dan grabbed the beer out of Jonah's hand to escape the hell that had just been unleashed on his couch. "You're waiting for them to bring you up, aren't you?"

"Sorry I don't watch Ellen or whatever shit you watch in your free time." The beer Jonah brought was room temperature, albeit not as entirely unpleasant as Dan expected.

"Come on man, give me the remote." It wasn't so much of a request as a statement because Jonah reached across to the table in front of them and snatched up the device.

"Perfect." He finally decided after what Dan could only describe as endless channel-surfing.

"The Bachelor? Are you fucking kidding me?" Dan cocked a judgmental eyebrow toward Jonah.

"The Bachelorette." He somehow summoned the audacity to correct his imbecilic choice in programming, "Forget congress, reality television is the rightful home of our nation's true egotists and bigots."

Dan would not have predicted that a person could make the inherent rock-bottom nature of watching the fucking Bachelorette appealing, but he conceded to Jonah's decent attempt at spinning the situation. And with that, Washington's chief fuckboys embarked upon an unconventional evening of television consumption.

The men persistently threw juvenile insults towards the varying degrees of douche-bag that danced their way onto screen. Of course, Dan Egan's television-set wasn't the only direction in which jabs were thrown, but these exchanges felt almost more comforting than aggressive. In the D.C. outside of Dan's apartment, a single insult between these two could quickly spiral into physical altercation, but comments seemed to harmlessly roll over them. The men even let certain obscenities drop with no recourse. The culmination of this experience made Dan ponder if merely one day out of D.C. had already softened the edges which he'd finely polished like shark's teeth throughout his career.

In a moment of lucidity, Dan started to imagine this scene from an outside perspective: two peers drinking beer, watching television, and unwinding from the day. Were Jonah and him fucking friends now? The notion brought bile to the back of his throat; there was no way he would let shit like that fly. If he were to even _consider_ having friends they might take the shape of Amy or even Mike, but never Jonah.

Yet, armed with the same information as Jonah, what have Amy or Mike done for him? Knowing that he was falsely fired under the seediest of pretenses carried out by their corrupt organization, the only action they had seemed to take was breathing a sigh of relief that the axe didn't fall on their heads. They hadn't even afforded a member of their once defunct suicide pact a passing thought. Jonah, on the other hand, showed up with beer and shitty attempts at comfort. With that in mind, Dan entertained the notion that the only person who truly cared about him might in fact be the human skyscraper cackling next to him on the couch - at his own joke, nonetheless.

Dan's best interests determined it best not to unpackage that thought any further. However, he could not afford Jonah Ryan believing that they were pals now just because he lost his position in the Meyer Administration. Dan felt the overwhelming urge to demonstrate to Jonah that he had no place for "friendship" in his life. Some time ago, he had first expressed this by laying into Jonah with threats and insults after many failed attempts to procure information regarding President Hughes and the Clean Energy Bill. But Dan didn't have the energy to chew Jonah a new one again. Besides, he was finding Jonah surprisingly bearable at the moment. Of course, this analysis afforded him a second option.

"This woman could go toe-to-toe with Selina in terms of ego. God, could you imagine her on one of these shows?" Jonah pulled Dan's wandering attention back into the show where "The Bachelorette" had been fighting with her stylist for at least twenty minutes. "Though she's far more qualified for this than her current position."

Remarks of that nature made Dan ache to return to his job, if only to see Selina reduce Jonah to a nervous lap-dog after affecting such faux-confidence. Though removed from the reality of his actual attitude in Selina's presence, Jonah's half-baked insult granted Dan's own corrupt intentions a flimsy "in". He laughed, a little too loud for the scale of Jonah's "joke", and intentionally made contact with his arm. As Dan wound down his laughter, he left his hand on Jonah.

He painted gentle circles with his thumb onto the skin exposed by Jonah's rolled sleeve. Though a small action, it held an unspeakable power that radiated through the room and deteriorated the entire atmosphere of false-kinship the men had somehow managed to construct.

Jonah was made visibly uneasy by the gesture. His eyes were glued to the television but alert to everything around him, especially Dan's breathing.

"The fact that anyone watches this garbage is ridiculous." Dan echoed sentiments that no one was feeling because the room's focal point was literally in his hand, caressing Jonah's skin.

"If it makes you feel any better, the viewership for this show is higher than Selina's polling numbers." Jonah gulped, completely frozen.

"Is that why you came here, Jonah? To make me feel better?" Dan's voice came out as an amalgamation of intentional seduction and unintentional anger.

"I-I don't know, Dan."

The handsome sociopath always took great delight in knocking over the fragile house-of-cards that was Jonah Ryan's self-image. His former co-worker's dumbfounded expression served as confirmation in his choice to take them down this road, a road that always seemed an option for them, because putting Jonah on edge this way gave Dan childlike joy.

"Look at me, Jonah."

He did. Now the two men were facing each other uncomfortably on the couch .

"I don't want your pity, understand?" In one swift motion Dan leaned his hand against Jonah's thigh as leverage to get his lips to the taller man's ear. "So how about you offer something else?"

With chills, Jonah shook his seducer lose from his ear; the only problem was this now brought them face-to-face. Dan was already doing things to Jonah with his eyes that couldn't be undone. Not that Jonah wanted to stop him but, in the spirit of having a fair say in the matter, Jonah made the first move. He crashed his lips into Dan's, sealing the dismal gap between them.

A part of Dan had understood this collision inevitable from the day he met Jonad, however it surprised him how natural it felt having his adversary's lips press against his. It's as though the game the pair had always been playing was simply taking on a new form. Dan upped the stakes as he leaned into Jonah, aggressively deepening his kiss.

The moan this action produced from Jonah rendered Dan's lips useless as they had no chose but transform into a satisfied smirk. Jonah chose not to warrant that with a response and proceeded to wipe the smirk off Dan's face himself.

"Dan, what the fuck?" Jonah broke briefly, in an effort to process this heel turn.

"Do you really want to ask questions, Jonah? Or do you want me to kiss you?"

Receiving no response, Dan reassumed the slightly elevated position necessary to reach Jonah. Hating to admit that he'd thought of this before, Dan was doing everything to Jonah's mouth he wanted to that day with the burrito.

"That's what I fucking thought." Dan said before he slid his tongue into Jonah's cavernous mouth.

For a brief moment, Dan wondered if this was cruel. Not in that he was playing into Jonah's obvious, near-constant desire to fuck him, but more so the tone he was taking. Dan never held back when it came to aggression towards Jonah, nor should he, however with the Teddy situation looming in Jonah's conscious he sought clear consent before moving where he wanted to next.

"Umm...?" In a rare instance of Dan being smoother in his head than reality, this was all he managed as his hand hovered over Jonah's crotch.

Luckily, Jonah could take a fucking hint; he bit his lip and simply whispered: "Please."

_Gold star for that invitation_. Dan noted in disbelief at Jonah Ryan's ability to actually turn him on. Jonah dove back into Dan's face as the shorter man maneuvered his hand to stroke Jonah along his pant-leg. As suspected, it didn't take much work to get Jonah hard. With a newfound energy, Jonah toppled Dan back unto the couch underneath him which seemed to be the final push Dan needed as well.

Jonah anticipated Dan's next need without much prompting. He dragged his lips away from Dan and moved down his neckline until he reached the collar of the man's shirt.

"Wanna lose that, Egan?" The only response Dan found himself capable of was an adherence to that request.

"Thank you." Jonah mustered pragmatically.

Dan anticipated the next moment would consist of a brief admiration of the figure which he worked tirelessly to sculpt. However, Jonah wasted no time with accolades and Dan couldn't condemn his choice to continue the trajectory of his lips down his shirtless torso. Once he reached Dan's pants he tugged at them flirtatiously, but glanced upward for approval.

"Go on." Dan used his words economically from fear that any additional syllables would betray just how weakened he had become by the sexual conduct of a person whom he normally despised.

"Whatever you say, Danny boy." Jonah teased, utilizing a nickname he surely knew the former staffer would loathe.

"Ugh, please put your mouth to good use before I lose my erection." He let the horrendous pet-name slide because every other aspect of Jonah's behavior was far exceeding his expectations.

Jonah paused a moment after he slid Dan's pants off, leaving his subject to lie impatiently in his boxers. Dan immediately recognized this as the cruel act of torture that it was but, being far too eager than he cared to admit, he handed over exactly what Jonah wanted to hear.

"Hurry up already." He was no longer trying to conceal his desperation.

Thankfully, Jonah took the road less traveled and removed Dan's last piece of clothing without any further teasing. Once again, Jonah thwarted expectations by making no pandering compliment or even snide remark in the direction of Dan's fully erect penis. Instead, Jonah prioritized taking Dan's entire length into his gaping maw with no hesitation. Dan had no complaints about this approach either.

"Holy shit." Dan groaned. He was intending a snarky jab about how Jonah had garnered his clear experience in this arena or, and the very least, some trite remark about his big mouth. But his body betrayed his witty internal dialogue by transforming it into expletive approval, because Jonah was not fucking around.

Every time Jonah moved along his shaft he'd perform a new sinful trick that combined the forces of his tongue and mouth. This was far from Jonah's first rodeo and Dan was flushed from a combination of rapture and embarrassment. He could not believe he thought, for even a second, that he was the one in control of this situation. Dan wondered whether this was even his idea in the first place; had Jonah been engineering this all along? Softening him up by throwing him to the press, then casually swinging by while he was weak with beer and cheap entertainment.

Considering this possibility, Dan glared down at the man wrapped around his cock with renewed contempt. However, before he could say anything, Jonah looked up with a furrowed brow forcing Dan to refocus his energy on withholding ejaculation at this sight. He couldn't fathom anything more humiliating than succumbing to Jonah Ryan after what felt like only moments of sexual contact. Dan realized that he didn't give two-shits what Jonah's intentions were - they might as well both get what they want out of it.

"You still hard, Jonah?" He asked as if he couldn’t see the answer written all over Jonad's stupid face.

"Yeah Dan, what do you think this is - junior prom night?" Dan took delight in Jonah's offended response and the fact that his point of reference seemed specific enough to lock away as fodder for future mockery.

"Hello?" Dan, despite his body's wishes, was now essentially prying Jonah, who had diligently returned to the act-at-hand, off of his body. "I was asking for a reason."

Jonah, who's face had maintained a higher-than-usual degree of prostration throughout this encounter, blinked up at him.

"Do you need me to spell it out for you Jonah?"

"Oh!" He readjusted upon finally processing Dan's request. "Do you have..?"

"Bedroom. Night stand. Top drawer." A D.C. errand boy at heart, Jonah bolted to the bedroom.

"I don't think these will fit, Dan." He could hear Jonah's toothy smirk as he hurled banter from the other room.

"Shut the fuck up, Jonad. You're not god's gift to mankind."

"I didn't hear any complaints from you earlier." Jonah said as he reappeared carrying lubricant and two condoms.

"Please don't tell me you're some kind of two-dicked mongoloid creature?" Dan replied noticing the two condoms and not ruling anything out in terms of his former-colleague's freakishness.

"Didn't want to make a second trip."

"Just lose the clothes quickly, smart-ass, or there won't be a first time." Dan rolled his eyes, the last thing he needed was sexual prop-comedy from a notoriously unfunny social leper.

Jonah fumbled with his clothes dropping them onto the floor in an unceremonious pile. It took merely seconds for him to shed his work attire, a time in which Dan's eyes fell quickly from his concave chest to his dick. Dan harbored suspicions considering Jonah's significant height, but he still couldn't really believe that he had just invited that thing inside of him.

"You ready, Danny?" Jonah said while gearing up, almost as though he had caught a whiff of Dan's inner monologue.

"Just fuck me already." He meant it. There was no challenge Dan Egan couldn't take.

"Count on it." Jonah beamed as he climbed back on top of Dan and reunited their lips haphazardly.

As he polished off lubrication, he trailed one finger down and slowly inserted it into Dan. The slight twitch this produced painted an obnoxious grin across Jonah's snout.

"Hey Jonah?" Dan retorted to this nonverbal.

"Yes." He stared blankly.

"Did you need an instruction manual when I said 'fuck me'?" He groped Jonah's cock, lining it up with his ass. "Because I'm not gonna ask you again."

"Is this what you want Dan?" Knowing he could handle it, Jonah bucked his hips aggressively into Dan.

"Mhmm," Dan met his thrusts. "That's a start."

Jonah aimed to kiss Dan again but instead fell past his face and proceeded to pant in his ear. Dan grunted and motioned his hips in a series methodical gyrations; he was getting this data breech fucked out of his system. Wearily, Jonah let one hand grip Dan's penis where he sloppily attempted to establish some sort of rhythm.

"More." Dan moaned and bit his lip.

"How?" Jonah asked, genuinely baffled on the matter of what more he could do to please Dan. The shorter man frustratingly demonstrated his point with a minor adjustment of his angle and hip. Discovering that he could indeed give a little more, Jonah did so with great generosity.

"Ugh..fuck, Egan." It was Jonah's turn to moan.

"You're gonna cum, aren't you?" Dan stated coarsely, reading the visual cues that rippled through Jonah's face.

Jonah closed his eyes and nodded in response. This confession granted Dan permission to finally let himself go and he buckled underneath the colossus.

"You gonna finish, what you started Jonad?" Dan encouraged once he regained composure. "Cause I don't want your dick in me all night."

"Are you sure about that, Dan?" He smirked down on him.

Dan responded by digging his nails into the back of the creep's mangy neck, passionately kissing him one last time before Jonah followed suit and alleviated the last of his sexual energy.

Up until this point in their relationship, Dan and Jonah had stained every White House corridor and political rally with their palpable tension without ever acting on it beyond verbal threats and mild physical aggression. It would take more than a moment for the pair to process what had finally just transpired between them. Nevertheless, in only a few bated breaths, Dan broke the air's brief fragility.

"The fucking Bachelorette's still on, isn't it?"

"Oh, yeah." Jonah realized.

Dan knew even less than he did yesterday about what his future held in Washington. Twenty-four hours ago he would not have guessed that, within in a day, he'd not only invite the gargantuan office pariah inside his home, let alone inside him, no more than he could have predicted that he would be dismissed from the Meyer Administration. There was only one aspect of this situation of which he was certain.

"We're no friends, Jonah." Dan Egan punctuated the thesis of his actions to the self-proclaimed "West Wing Man", who simply nodded his head.


End file.
